Ryouma's face made a picture. Kakashi leaned against the bed and tried not to laugh himself apart; it was harder than it should have been, but that was just the exhaustion. He coughed roughly, disguising a chuckle, and nearly lost it completely when Ryouma flicked him a bewildered what do I do? look.

It was funny where you could find humour.

Kakashi managed to catch a breath, tasting the air, and let himself lean again. Ryouma didn't smell unhappy. Confused and a little unsettled, but nothing close to the panic of earlier. He'd be fine for a minute.

"Just don't lose your pants," he advised, "she might get the wrong idea."

Or the right one, he thought suddenly, remembering how Ryouma had talked about her on the riverbank. But there was a time and a place, and half dead in a hospital was definitely not it.

Particularly if Kakashi was still in the room.

He snorted, checked his weapons and gear with an absent wrist flick, and dropped himself bonelessly onto the bed, nudging Ryouma over. It was cramped, but Tsume wasn't a whole lot bigger than Shouma, and she was mostly sprawled on Ryouma anyway.

Ryouma without his shirt and a definite case of cold skin going on. Kakashi reached down and hooked the rumpled sheets with one hand, drawing them up and over the pair. He left himself on the outside, unwilling to get tangled. Judging by how the day was going, he'd need to move quickly at some point soon.

He braced his back against the white-painted steel bedframe, and fished in his armour until he located a tiny medkit; his wrist was still bleeding sluggishly from Shouma's wake up call, and Ryouma's hands were blood-stained.

Kakashi yawned, settled his hip against Ryouma's side, and pointed at the hand closest to him. "Lemme see that?" He grinned a little beneath his mask. "Be a shame for you to get all infected and nasty when you smell so good..."